


Memories I Run From

by jolymusichetta



Category: Now You See Me (2013)
Genre: College Aged Danny, F/M, M/M, Runaway Jack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-19
Updated: 2014-03-19
Packaged: 2018-01-16 06:38:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1335709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jolymusichetta/pseuds/jolymusichetta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not like it was a cold, dreary night that you always hear about, one where anyone would hate to be outside in, but J. Daniel Atlas let the kid that knocked on his apartment door at three am in anyway. Maybe because he felt sorry for him, or maybe it was because the kid was kind of cute, but still ...</p><p>He should've know better than to answer the door at three o'clock in the morning. But he did it anyway.</p><p>Now he just wanted to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memories I Run From

When Danny woke up the morning after letting a teenage runaway into his apartment, someone he didn’t even know but took pity on because he felt sorry for him … well that and he was kind of cute, and his wallet was missing, he knew he shouldn’t have been so fucking stupid. He didn’t bother going to chase after the kid. Who knew how long ago he had left and it wouldn’t even be worth it. He didn’t have that much money in his wallet anyway, he kept it all hidden under the shoe box filled with old letters and bills. One look through it and anyone would be so bored, tears sprang to his eyes.

Thankfully, though, his phone was still there and he dialed the police non emergency number for Chicago, heading out into the living room. As he was connected, he said, “Yes, hi, my name is J. Daniel Atlas and I’d like to report a —” he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the kid he had let sleep there, lying on his stomach on the floor with his shirt folded up on the coffee table and his backpack on the side of the couch. The blanket was only covering his lower half, and Danny could just barely see the top of his jeans from where he stood. He could also see the scars that went down the kid’s back, disappearing under his jeans. Some of the marks were old and faded. Others looked new and fresh and extremely painful. Never mind,” he said, hanging up his phone before he glanced twice at the kid, making sure he was asleep before he went back into his room to double check. His wallet was on the floor and yeah, now he felt horrible for automatically jumping to conclusions but … could you blame him?

Going into the kitchen, he made pancakes and bacon and set out a couple glasses of orange juice, because breakfast was the most important meal of the day, after all, before he went into the living room, crouching down next to the kid and said, “Kid. It’s time to wake up.” He didn’t get a response, but the second he grabbed his shoulder to jostle him lightly, he woke up, grabbing Danny’s wrist in a way that if Danny moved wrong, it would break it.

As soon as the kid realized what was going on, he dropped Danny’s hand, pulling his shirt on, and a sweatshirt. “Sorry,” he muttered, lowering his eyes. “Thanks for letting me crash here.” He stood, folding the blanket that he used and tossing it on the couch before he shouldered his backpack.

"You’re not leaving yet, are you?" Danny asked, in an appraising way that he often used when he wanted people to do something he wanted.

"Yeah … I kind of am. It’s a long way to California," the kid said, turning to look at Danny with his hands in his pockets. "I better get started."

Danny raised his eyebrows at that. This kid wouldn’t make it to California. Not for at least a month. And that month would mostly be spent sleeping in ditches off the side of the highway, hitchhiking and probably having something happen to him. And honestly, Danny didn’t give a shit if something happened to him (though he kind of did) he just thought it’d be right to offer the kid something reminiscent of a decent meal before he left. Who knew how long it would be before he had one again. “Eat something first,” he said, tone strict and offering no room for arguing. “I already made food.” For a college guy, pancakes and bacon were pretty impressive, so to a guy who was a high schooler and who’s cooking skills probably ranged from cereal to toast, it would be very impressive.

And also, he knew what a guy’s stomach was like. They could eat just about anything, any time. So he wasn’t surprised when the kid said, after a moment of deliberation, “I could eat.” He dropped his backpack on the floor and followed Danny into the kitchen. He helped himself to only one pancake, a few pieces of bacon and a glass of orange juice before he sat down, trying to eat like a civilized person.

Danny got himself three pancakes, out of the stack that had plenty more, four pieces of bacon and a glass of orange juice as well before he sat across from the kid. “You don’t have to eat so little,” he said quietly, “There’s plenty more to eat.”

"You don’t have roommates?" the kid asked after he swallowed, glancing around for the first time since he got there.

Danny scoffed. “Like anyone could put up with me,” he muttered, running a hand through his curly hair before he went back to eating. “I don’t play well with others,” he said.

The kid shrugged. “You seem alright to me.” Danny appreciated the thought, nodding, but he wasn’t going to tell this kid how wrong he was.

"Thanks." After looking over at the kid’s plate, his frowned. He had eaten only half of what he had, and he had hardly touched his juice. "Are you seriously finished with that?"

Whatever it was, the tone of his voice, or his words, or maybe both, had the kid’s face falling and he shakily said, “I’ll eat more.” He looked scared and of what, Danny didn’t know but he had a pretty damn good idea and honestly, he didn’t like it.

"Hey, you don’t have to if you do want to," he said softly, keeping his hands on the table where the kid could see him. "Are you hungry or are you just eating so no one will get angry at you for wasting food?"

He didn’t get a response, but the kid kept eating. He was pretty skinny, his skin was pale and he didn’t seem to be eating because he wanted to, it was more like he was going through the motions, trying to keep anyone from getting angry. “What’s your name?” he asked next, trying to get the kid to calm down.

After a moment, he said, making sure to swallow first, “Jack.”

Jack. That was a decent start, especially if what happened to him was what Danny thought had happened. “I’m Danny,” he said. “Would you like more food?” After a moment, Jack nodded and Danny got up to get a few more pancakes. It wasn’t hard to guess what happened, what with the scars down his back and marks he noticed before he put on a sweatshirt, and now, with the matter that he seemed afraid of Danny. It would be good of him to take extra caution with this. But he put the pancakes on Jack’s plate and refilled his glass of orange juice and put more bacon on his plate and as Jack seemed to realize that Danny wouldn’t get angry at him for eating or not eating and wasting food, he began to dig in.

The kid was a fucking garbage disposal. He ate quickly, and when he was finished, he still wanted more. Danny had to cook more pancakes, not that he minded. As long as Jack was eating, he was okay with it. And as he ate, Danny swore he could see the color returning to his cheeks, his face turning flushed and he didn’t seem as on edge as he had before and that was definitely a good thing.

Before Jack could even think of leaving, he put on the tv, inviting Jack to watch as he did the dishes, but Jack insisted on helping him so Jack washed and Danny dried and put them away, working like a pretty good team. But Danny, curious as he was, couldn’t see any of the marks on Jack’s arms, because he never rolled up his sleeves and Danny wished he had, just to confirm what he thought before he told anybody. After they washed the dishes, a stupid episode of Spongebob came on and Danny, while he hated stupid things, suspected that Jack loved them and they sat down on the couch. Jack sat tucked in on himself, eyes never leaving the screen and he never spoke once, not even during the commercial breaks.

"You okay?" Danny asked during one of the breaks, not knowing if Jack actually gave a shit about the show.

"Fine," Jack said, eyes still focused on the tv and he nodded, as if reassuring himself that he was.

Danny nodded. “You sure? You look cold to me.” He didn’t know why he said that. Jack looked fucking cold? That was probably the stupidest thing he could have said.

And after a moment, Jack nodded.

And yet, maybe it wasn’t the stupidest thing he said at all.

He got up and got Jack a blanket, draping it over him. It was one of the softest blankets he had, warm and cuddly and it was often the blanket he used during finals week when he was pretty sure he was going to go out of his fucking mind. As he put it over Jack, the kid seemed to relax, not seeming nearly as nervous anymore and when Danny invited him to stay the night again, Jack agreed.

Danny didn’t expect him to be there at one o’clock in the morning, an hour after they both went to bed, lying on the couch again with his shirt off and the blanket just covering his jeans. His chest had more marks on them than his back, covered in what looked like cigar burns and jagged scars from beer bottles.

That settled it, he had two people to call. One, the local department of child services and two, his friend Henley. 

He called Henley first, telling her that if she still needed someone to look after, since Henley was one of those people that just needed to mother everyone, that he had just the person.

It didn’t hurt that she was aiming for a job in child protective services.


End file.
